


Last Christmas

by whisksandplungers



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Depression trigger warning, Fluff, I needed Amy to be alive for christmas ok i just I'm in denial, Other, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:12:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2827874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisksandplungers/pseuds/whisksandplungers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A flashback to 21st December 2008, and Amy is contemplating what looks to be her last Christmas after her diagnosis. </p>
<p>Written for the In The Flesh advent calender.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> First fic in ages, hope you like it! It starts off a bit morbid but I promise it gets kinda fluffy pretty quick. I wrote this for the 21st December entry for the In The Flesh calender organised by the AMAZING intheflesh-art (seriously, best blog ever)
> 
> Original post (with the accompanying art drawn by mybrokenboys):  
> http://intheflesh-art.tumblr.com/post/105802809275/advent-calendar-december-21st

**21st December 2008**  
Amy sat with her forehead against the glass of her bedroom window. She was absently watching three kids outside, running around playing chase. It would have been more seasonally appropriate if they had been having a snowball fight or building a snowman, but it was too warm for snow.

_“And now for the song from the X-factor winner Alexander Burke, it’s what looks set to be our Christmas number one, Hallelujah!”_  
The simple, arpeggio chords floated up to her room from her dad’s radio downstairs. 

She had been given 1 year. 1 year left on this earth. Well that was a few months ago, so that meant that this was her last Christmas. Oh yes, hallelujah.  
Amy focused her eyes on the kids who were laughing and shrieking maniacally as fingers hooked on coats, so close to being caught. She wished she didn’t, but she hated them. They had so many years ahead of them, and Amy had just one. How was that fair? Who had decided on that? This wasn’t their last Christmas.  
One of the kids was safely off to the side, taking a quick break, panting out puffs of white air. The boy was chasing the other girl, who shrieked wildly as she felt the boys hand brush her back. She suddenly spun round to try and run back the opposite way to get away from him, but she skidded and fell flat on her face. Amy’s heart jumped at the sight, feeling that moment of fear as the world jumps up around you and your body freezes into rigid unhelpfulness. As the girl, bloody-faced and crying, was carefully coaxed towards one of their homes, Amy pondered that feeling you get when you miss a step, when you lose control; that oh-god-this-is-it-I’m-dead.

Maybe that girl wouldn’t have another Christmas. Maybe she would go out walking on boxing day and get hit by a car. But at least she would have had a good one, running around with friends, living life at the edge.  
Amy sat back as she realised, this was her last Christmas. Her very, very last. And dammit, what the hell was she doing in a blank room? No advent calendar to count down the excitement, no tree, just a small little “Christmas” with her Nan and her dad. A few presents to tick the boxes, a meal prepared but not to be enjoyed.  
Amy had wrapped herself in the blanket of the night so that the star-light would not blind her.  
No, she would rage against this dying light. She was going to make her last Christmas her best one, because she wouldn’t have another chance.  
Amy looked at her watch – 12 o’clock, plenty of time. 

*

At 4 o’clock Amy pushed the front door open with a huff, and dumped seven stuffed shopping bags in the hallway. Though it was a Sunday, the shops had been open to catch the last minute Christmas shoppers, and Amy had got everything she needed.

“Amy?” her dad started poking his head out the door.

“No no no no!!” she squealed, running towards him and pushing him back into the kitchen, “you mustn’t see!” 

“See what? What are you doing?” her dad said, obediently stepping back, bemused.

“Well obviously I can’t tell you that,” Amy rolled her eyes, “just stay in here until I get all the stuff upstairs.”

Once Amy had got upstairs she emptied the bags onto her bed. But she didn’t start dealing with them straight away; she started by calling up her aunt, then her cousin, then her other cousin, and any other family member that wasn’t a million miles away, inviting them all over for the “most fabulous Christmas EVER.” She could hear the shielded surprise, sympathy and awkwardness in their voices, but she ploughed on through and soon there was quite the family gathering planned. It took an hour of dialling and talking, but eventually she was able to move onto what she really wanted to do.

By 1am Amy’s room resembled a playschool’s art room at Christmas. Everything was covered in a fine layer of glitter. A pile of multi-coloured, sequinned and glittered paper chains towered next to her bed, as high as her when she was sitting down. Next to that was a pile of other paper and card decorations; snowflakes, card cut into the shape of Christmas trees, snowmen, candy canes, chained Santas and elves. On her bed lay the presents that she had previously neglected to buy because she had been told “not to worry about it, dear.” They were all wrapped in gold and silver glitter wrapping paper and tied with a red ribbon, each one accompanied with a personalised gift tag which featured copious amounts of glitter and sequins. On these tags every family member was wished a happy Christmas using a different and carefully chosen adjective.

Her eyes felt dry and she could barely lift her arms, but somehow she picked up the decorations and started tip-toeing downstairs.

*

Dorothy, Amy’s Gran, slowly made herself downstairs at 7am. She hadn’t seen Amy since yesterday morning, and she was a little concerned. She pushed open the door to the living room and gasped. What had been a plain room was transformed like something out of a cheesy Christmas movie; a brand new tree stood in the corner, covered in baubles and tinsel clearly retrieved from the depths of the attic, as well as little paper and card decorations haphazardly covered in glitter. Snowflakes were stuck all over the walls, and paper chains lined the borders of the room. Well, not quite. One paper chain was only half stuck on; underneath, a sleeping, glittery Amy. Dorothy smiled at the joy that Amy had put into the room. She grabbed a blanket and tried to tuck Amy in, but she woke up.  
“Gran!” Amy grinned the moment she saw her, “we’ve got something very important to do.” 

Before Dorothy had a chance to reply, Amy ran out of the room, to return mere moments later holding two advent calendars. 

“We’ve got 22 days to catch up on!”  
Amy’s dad came down soon enough to find Amy and her Gran scoffing chocolate whilst sticking up the remaining decorations.  
“Amy, what’s going?” he said, wary of this sudden transformation. 

“I’ve fixed it! We needed more Christmas. Here!” she said, thrusting the third advent calendar into his hands, “you’ve got a lot of catching up to do!”  
Paul looked down at the advent calendar with a slight frown. “But Amy, I didn’t think you wanted to... to, well – ”  
“Dad,” Amy interrupted, moving closer to him to look him in the eyes, “this could well be my last Christmas. I don’t want to pretend it’s not happening, pretend that other people aren’t happy just because I’m jealous or something. This is my last chance to see Christmas trees, and eat advent calendar chocolates!” she popped one into her mouth to prove her point. “And anyway, I’ve invited the whole family round, and this room was boooooring, it needed a Christmassy makeover. You’re welcome!” 

Paul watched as his daughter flounced off to blue-tack another snowflake to the mantelpiece. It truly felt as if his heart was singing at the sight of his fabulously happy daughter returned to them, and he could see the same feeling reflected in Dorothy’s eyes.  
“Merry Christmas, Amy,” he said with a smile.

*

**25th December 2014**

Five years and three days later Amy sat at her dressing table with the 2008 words of her father ringing through her brain. After all that fuss and it hadn’t been her last Christmas after all. Though it had been last Christmas with her family. She hung her head, bitterness washing over her as she thought of her Gran.  
She heard a strong knock on her bedroom door, and Kieren’s head appeared through the door frame. 

“Dinner’s ready!” he said brightly before taking in Amy’s slumped form. 

“You alright?” he said, coming into the room as his expression quickly changed to one of soft concern.  
“Yep, no, I’m fine!” Amy replied overly cheerfully, sitting up and fixing him with a grin. But Kieren knew her too well for that facade to fool him. He tilted his head to give her a slightly stern look. She understood and relented, sighing. 

“It’s just...” she began awkwardly, picking at her dress, “it’s not that I miss my family so much, I’m happy, but it would be nice, occasionally, to have one. Especially...” she drifted off, letting her hand indicate the day around her. 

Kieren studied her for a few moments, before walking over to her and grabbing the white flower he had given her for Christmas. He mumbled to ask her to look up at him, and he very carefully pinned it into her hair. He gave her a small smile and picked up her hand.  
“Come on you,” he said, leading her out of her room and into the living room where they had set up a make-shift dining table. Philip and Simon were sitting there quietly waiting, looking out of place. They were both, reluctantly, wearing tacky Christmas jumpers, and were adorned with tinsel from Amy and Kieren’s ambush earlier in the day. The turkey and array of vegetables were laid in front of them, and crackers waited invitingly unbroken on the table.  
Kieren put his arm around Amy’s shoulder, and pointed at the two now smiling men.  
“There’s your family, dum dum,” he said gently.

And as they eagerly tucked into their Christmas feast (still a wonderful treat for the only recently re-humanised Undead), and their crackers popped in unison, and Kieren forced the cracker hat down onto a grumpy Simon’s head, and Philip read his terrible cracker joke in complete dead pan, Amy realised that she had made her own family, and this most definitely wasn’t going to be their last Christmas.

**Author's Note:**

> So there it is! I didn't intend it to be fluffy at all when I first started writing but it kinda just happened... I've never written fluff before so feedback always appreciated.
> 
> A huge huge huge thanks to my best friend and fangirl Bryony (wearethecumbercollected) for coming up with the idea for, and basically planning the whole last section, and for indulging my ridiculous perfectionism at gone midnight (like checking the weather forecast for Leicester on the 21st December 2008. It was 8 degrees and windy, in case you're interested)
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! All feedback always appreciated :)


End file.
